Finnick: The Afterlife
by kimberleyh
Summary: Finnick's thoughts about Annie and The Capitol after his death. First-person.


It was painless, really. I remember having struggled – boy, did I try to live - but I feel so numb that I can't remember whether it really hurt at all. The 'death-bite' it's called. One bite to the neck and you're done for. A goner. I don't know what I look like anymore – not as if there's a mirror to look into. Huh. I just hope Annie's okay. Sometimes, when the fog lifts, I catch glimpses of her; sometimes it's her dress I see, dragging across the sand on a windswept beach-of-sorts as she lifts her child – our child- up into her arms. Boy, is he lucky to have a mother like her. Sometimes I see her crying. Then, it's too painful to look. I just – more than anything, really – want her to know that I'm there. Well, not literally there with her… but I can see her. Isn't that enough? I told her – I _promised_ her – that I would come back. I've only made two promises in my life and I've broken both of them. I often wonder if she's better off without me… Some days she looks so content and blissful I find it hard to believe she could be happier with me by her side… but it's those days when I see her crying that I know how much she misses me. When I concentrate really hard I feel sure I can hear her weeping – praying, even. I know that's impossible. You can't hear anything up here. Soundproof. Boy, the capitol should take a look at the technology here. They'd weep. Lousy buggers.

For all the envy and contempt I showed to the capitols then, it feels silly to be angry any more. I mean, they're so _busy_ for one thing, - never taking time to reflect on life or themselves, they just do their jobs and laugh at others and they never were settled or peaceful. You know, I hated my life more than any of them would but those days when I was with Annie, the day that she said she loved me, the day that we got married… I felt true happiness. I doubt they ever did…

I have a lot of time to reflect on life up here. Down here? I don't know. It's not bad as such just… lonely. I see Annie living her life and I see Katniss and even Peeta sometimes too and everytime I look they're surrounded by people and faces and they're busy or laughing or crying and I'm just – well, I'm just _here_. Not living, exactly. Existing? Yes. Waiting is probably the best word. Dear Annie spent so many years by my side when I hardly cared for her and now I'm hanging on every word she ever said to me, just waiting 'til she finds me again. That was the promise I broke. The last thing she ever said to me, she whispered, "Come back to me". I felt her cry too; those hot wet tears seared onto my cheeks and it won't stop burning because I _lied_. Oh, she'll forgive me alright but I won't. I said I'd come back and I didn't. My body didn't even make it back to her. I know because I saw the funeral ; A plain wooden cross bearing a silver chain with an anchor attached to it. She cried. I think she spoke too, but I was busy crying too and I couldn't see her very well through the blur. She cried for a week. I cried for two.

Time doesn't pass normally here… It seems like it doesn't pass at all. I catch glimpses of dates and times when I see my friends below but there's nothing here to indicate it. I haven't travelled very far to see, though… not because I'm tired -I never get tired- but because I can't bear to travel anywhere as it makes me feel so alone. There's something about walking that makes you realize your solitude like nothing else can do. I know I will travel further soon but for now I shall simply wait. That's what this is – the waiting place. I'm pretty sure it's nicer in heaven – or at least, that's what I think it is – because sometimes I hear laughter echoing from above. No-one laughs here. Everyone is waiting for their beloved to come before they leave. It's not that we can't leave exactly. It's just,if we choose to, we won't see earth again and I'm scared. There, I said it. I'm scared because I don't want to forget Annie or The Hunger Games or anything that I lived to care for or to destroy because that's what makes me sane and I think that, maybe just by looking, I can help someone down there. I swear Annie can feel me sometimes and if I disappear from here maybe she'll forget –sorry. I'm being silly. I get like this sometimes. I think I'm just lonely.


End file.
